The mischief drops from her eyes in brief little glints, flashing their way out of her narrow face as she creeps ever closer to her brother. He doesn’t suspect a thing, and that would make Loki laugh, but that she is creeping, and she cannot let him know that she’s almost there.

                        Almost,

                            almost,

                               a l m o s t.

 Sif gives her up and Loki wants to damn her traitor’s mouth, but Thor has turned and caught her up in his arms and he yanks his sister toward him, a grin on his chubby features. Loki screeches as he puts his hands in her hair and then grabs her again as she tries to get away, crushing her to his ever-broadening chest.

 The Trickster curls up around his arms and Thor laughs, bright and wafting and full of all of the mirth of their childhood and swings Loki around to face Sif, dropping her finally between the two of them.

 Her cheeks are flushed and she tries to look displeased but in the end she cannot hide the fact that she enjoyed the short stint of manhandling, and so her lips curve up into that sharp little smile that she’s so known for, and her eyes flash again and a clone jumps Thor from behind and wrestles him to the grass.

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